they just dropped off my new CPAP machine, meaning I’m no longer in danger of choking to death in my sleep. which means I can finally sleep.
I mean that literally. I was so scared of dying in my sleep I barely even dozed.
about time I fixed that. g’night.
Lisa and I were never really friends, but we knew each other as part of the New England scene of the early-mid 90s. She always intimidated me in a good way.
Sitting tonight with Zork and a couple of SUNY-Purchase students after the reading, I got to reminiscing about those early days; and while no one in the group knew Lisa or her work, she was much on my mind as I spoke.
The last time I saw her, she was hosting the Queer Slam at the BPC a few years ago. We reconnected briefly, and she introduced me to a woman named Joan who looked very familiar, but I casually brushed the feeling off, figuring she was a poet I’d seen around and forgotten. Marty McConnell looked at me strangely a little while later when I asked who she was, after she’d left. It was Joan Jett, who I think Lisa was dating back then. (I think I should be forgiven, as she had blonde hair at the time.) Lisa was so busy with the hosting and stuff (and I was pretty drunk, thanks to Roger and Marty) that I never did get to really talk to her that night. I regret that now.
I feel like I’ve lost another link to why I originally got involved with slam. The fact that we are the same age only amplifies that.
So — shall we do the sad roll call? Pat Storm, Chris Branch, Ken Hunt, Angela Boyce, Peter Conti, Lisa King. William McLain too, although his was old age. I’m sure there are others.
Do the new slammers know these people? Know their names, their work, their legacies?
Bring them back, indeed.
The Ken Hunt Prize is definitely on for this year, I swear.
Dark Matter 